


Stolen.  1-4/4.

by punky_96



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14417004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: Re-post from LJ.  Someone asked for this one to be transferred sooner than later, so here it is.  Only a few changes actually.A painting is not the only thing stolen when there is a break-in at the townhouse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenavirgin](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=xenavirgin), [XVnot15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XVnot15/gifts).



> Generous Benefactor: Xenavirgin  
> Beta: Pdt_bear and Xenavirgin 
> 
> A/N: sigh. this fic was a long time coming in more ways than one. My first ever DWP fic was started before Admiration or Proud and it was never finished (1/15/09). (It was posted 3/24/11.) The fic centered around Andrea coming to deliver the book and finding the Townhouse left open after a break-in. It has sat on the hard-drive waiting all this time. Then maybe a year ago I received a prompt from XV having Andy as Nate’s cover-girlfriend because he was with Doug and then Mirandy happening and it being Andy’s first time. I started that fic more than once, but sadly couldn’t make a go of it. Then about two weeks ago I was trying to figure out how to save the 2000 or so words of my latest attempt when I realized the two could be merged and made into a nice little story. So two birds, one stone. YAY!
> 
> A/N 1: The door damage is related to a personal incident dealing with a door left hanging ajar and going in, and cracks left in a damaged door that were creepy to me. This may only have been my one experience and not generalize well to all break-ins, but bear with me, dear reader.

**_Stolen. Part 1/4._**  
  
Opening the door Andrea gasped as she stepped into a well-lit apartment filled with the delicious smell of grilled cheese and the vibrations of music stirring up dust bunnies into a frolic. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that she didn’t live alone, it just felt like she did most of the time. Well, except when Doug was out of town or Nate’s father came to the big city for a visit. Andrea sighed as she looked around. It was nice to have someone to come home to and to be greeted by a home cooked meal and light. Stumbling through this fast-paced New York life Andrea had little time to take care of herself, let alone to pamper herself the way another person could. Too bad he was only her boyfriend on borrowed time. Turning the volume down just a notch Andrea stepped into the kitchen and yelled, “What? Do you think you live here?”  
  
The pan hovering over the burner clanked loudly against the stove and Andrea hoped that it was a cook thing and not a broken stove thing. Cultural differences she could work with, but a broken stove from a part-time roommate she could not. “Andy!” Leaving a pan on a full burner seemed like a dangerous thing, but she had always trusted Nate even if it meant that she’d need a new pan. In two steps she was gripped just around her body underneath her hips and lifted up off of those too high heels squealing the entire way up, around and around, and finally startled back down.  
  
She groaned relieved to be back on Earth and pained to be back on her feet. “Nate! What’s up?”  
  
A loud change in the sizzle pattern had him holding up a finger of pause at her. As he turned to the stove and flipped out a sandwich onto a plate, she stepped out of her shoes and tucked them under the chair in the corner. They would be safe enough from hurricane Nate there. “Sit down, girl. It’s hot.” He ordered with a smile as he presented her half of the grilled cheese with a flourish.  
  
Not one to turn down the extravagance of Jarlsberg on a budget Andrea plopped down with a smile. Nate turned set his half of the sandwich down on a second place across from her before he turned back to the fridge. The large Tupperware container was a mystery as was the rigorous shaking Nate was doing to it. Andrea raised her brow at him, unknowingly imitating her boss. The plastic lid was abandoned on the sideboard as he grabbed two mixing spoons from the counter and joined her. The salad that greeted her, with what she was sure was Nate’s signature salad dressing looked like a feast to her. She hoped that he would leave the container behind when he left. Emily would die if she saw that salad. Andrea’s mouth watered at the thought of it.  
  
“Doug had to go to the Chicago office.” He offered the usual explanation for his presence. “I thought I’d better check up on my girlfriend.” Nate’s leer dissolved into giggles until he felt Andrea’s back hand against his arm. “What?”  
  
Andrea rolled her eyes at him, “Please.” She said amused. “You’re the girlfriend, buddy boy. I know who wears the pants in your world.” She took an ecstatic bite of her sandwich savoring the wayward perks of being the not-girlfriend to her best friend’s boyfriend, or the not-girlfriend to her other best friend’s boyfriend. Either way it worked to an almost happy trio of bliss with Nate and Doug holding all the bliss and Andrea holding the kite string solo on her end.  
  
“I resemble that remark.” Nate said as he took a bite of his own sandwich. They enjoyed the quiet moment of shared cheese and amusement allowing themselves to wallow in the pleasure of a rare fragment of their shared past even as it slipped further and further from their fingertips.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“So how long do I have you for, lover?” Andrea joked as they curled up on the couch with the late-night joy of crappy broadcasting. It had been a long time since they had snuggled in their fuzzy socks to make disparaging comments about the quality of the editing, reporting, or plotting depending on what channel fell victim to their scrutiny.  
  
The sad sigh that escaped Nate as an answer made Andrea smile. She really hated being so alone in New York. She knew it was hard on Nate and Doug too, but most of the time they were curled up at Doug’s with Andrea rattling around in a shell of a life and Casa de Sachs. “Three days.” He spelled out for her. Andrea hugged his arm a little closer reveling in the comfort that always came with being close. She also wondered if she could get him to make his wonderful beef brisket burritos.  
  
Just then the reporter covering the snowstorm in Maine fell down the slope as she grumbled one too many times about the muddy conditions. They erupted into fits of giggles. The broadcast didn’t get much better, not that Andrea had seen much more than a few minutes beyond that with the heavy screen of her closed eyelids greatly impairing her ability to see. “Andy, go to bed.” She swatted away his hand on her face, but after a few moments she grumbled something and bumbled into the bedroom.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Late night drops to Miranda’s house were a little creepy. The house’s creepiness stemmed from the simple fact that the boss was somewhere inside lurking. The collywobbles came from the fact that somewhere in each of our brains we are hard-wired to believe in the boogey man on a biological level. No manner of bravery, pinching, or even liquid courage could really shake that no matter how old you were. The streets and subways of New York did nothing to lessen this biological impulse toward the heebie-jeebies either. Homeless people, strangers in hoods or behaving erratically at all hours of the night, the cruising of a police car or security guard just often enough to not really feel comforting all added up to quite the feeling of unease by the time the average person arrived home.  
  
All of this was highlighted the first night that Andrea came home alone after Nate’s visit. A woman on the subway had sat in the same bank of seats as her and with each stop she had inched closer all the while keeping her head down mumbling to herself and wringing her hands. Andrea had finally gotten off as the woman was sitting next to her, but before she could do anything. Debriefing the incident with Nate would have really helped her settle down because over all it had been an icky night, but her dark apartment only greeted her with silence and the smell of coffee grounds in the trash.  
  
Sighing she had simply stripped down and slipped under the covers doing her best not to re-live a single moment since leaving work so that her dreams would hopefully not be tainted as well.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
The rain started to fall harder and Andrea thought not for the first time that with all of Emily’s snipping that maybe she should offer for her to take back the duty of delivering the book. She often entertained herself with images of Emily’s face after that suggestion. Her wide eyes made all the more sparkly by her eye shadow would bug out and her mouth would form that shocked little oval that hid her teeth but revealed her inner priss so much. If Emily didn’t love Miranda so much Andrea thought that she’d really be better off trying to latch onto one of the designers or other fashion playboys that hung around. They ogled her enough and would surely keep her in a style she could become accustomed to.   
  
Andrea smiled as she stepped out of the vehicle and bid goodbye to Roy. Half of her wanted to ask him to stay and drive her home. He had always said that he would, but she hated to make his day take any longer than it had to. He was up early enough bending to the will of Runway far earlier than the rest of them, picking up Miranda for her various morning engagements before delivering her in all her glory to Runway each day. He was off before she could quite talk herself into asking him so she just adjusted her bag, the dry cleaning and the Book. Might as well make this snappy and get out of here. Maybe if she caught a slightly earlier train she could avoid the lady from the previous night. Over the last several months Andrea had realized that she truly enjoyed this part of her job—it was just the journey after Miranda’s that put her off actually. Never in a million years would she have imagined back on day one that she would come to ‘enjoy’ any aspect of this job, but she had surprised herself once again. Miranda was usually invisible, but Andrea’s heart fluttered out of her chest every time she caught a glimpse of her elusive employer. The few times that Miranda had addressed her had sent Andrea’s mind into the clouds. She feared that she would melt into a puddle on the floor, but it sure made the ensuing dangers of her trip home worth enduring. The feelings had stealthily crept over her and by the time she had realized she had feelings for Miranda Priestly, it was too late for her to undo it. So she had accepted them and done her best to constantly remain calm.  
  
In anticipation of the slim possibility of talking to Miranda her stomach flip-flopped. It wasn’t until she was on the second step up to the town house that she looked up and saw the door to the townhouse slightly ajar. She tightened her grip on the Book and the dry cleaning before she dropped them. Her right foot stepped back down to the first step and her left pulled back even with it, but she could not retreat. The odd silence and deceivingly fine atmosphere of the façade was unnerving. Andrea looked up and down the street and cautiously stepped up again. Her stomach tightened as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end screaming that she should run away. The loud beat of her heart pounded out its desperate plea to see if Miranda was okay.  
  
By experience and Emily’s Urban Runway Legends Miranda was always at the townhouse by the time the book was delivered. Miranda had to be inside or had to have been inside when whoever it was that left the door wide open had been there and Andrea felt compelled to find out one way or the other. The light shining out of the doorframe left little doubt, but still Andrea wasn’t sure what had happened. The police and press weren’t there and her phone was not ringing off the hook with orders from Miranda, Emily or Nigel. Confusion joined hands with the collywobbles in her stomach and began to sing a creepy lullaby like from those Freddy Krueger movies her brother made her watch as a child.  
  
Nervously peering into the foyer Andrea gasped at the sight of the flower vase smashed on the floor with flowers strewn every which way amidst the broken glass and puddles of water on the hardwood. Miscellaneous things from other rooms of the house had made their way into the mixture of mess on the floor. Her first impression of a break-in confirmed, Andrea now began to ponder the degree and type of break in. The lack of commotion made the situation creepier as she slowly surveyed the scene around her. Life, with Miranda Priestly at the epicenter, was not this eerily quiet or calm. Ready to make her initial round of phone calls Andrea was stepping back to the door when she heard crying from inside the first closet. Frozen Andrea’s heart seemed to invert itself and choke out the blood backwards reversing her existence.  
  
The closet door also hung open ajar and, like every other horror film virgin, Andrea peered around the wood into the almost darkness of the closet. Dropping the dry-cleaning as the chill short-circuited down her back Andrea couldn’t believe the sight of Miranda Priestly curled up on the floor in the far corner clutching a coat hanger in one hand. The vulnerability of Paris paled in comparison to the disheveled out of focus sight before her. She stepped forward almost beating Pavlov’s impulse to pick up the dry cleaning, but not quite mastering it. She hung it hastily as she lurched into the closet. “Miranda. Miranda? Are you okay?”  
  
The whimpered answer and clatter of the metal hanger on the flooring shocked Andrea. The hands pulling at her with a frail strength knocked her off balance and she quickly tucked her legs beneath her as she knelt in front of Miranda. Blindly clutching at her, Andrea allowed her hands to capture Miranda’s in her own and wincing as she felt how cold she was. “Miranda? The twins?” Andrea didn’t know how out of it Miranda was and hoped that nothing had happened to the twins.  
  
“Their father,” Miranda whispered, yanking Andrea’s arm forward and hugging it in a frantic death grip. Awkwardly Andrea lurched closer to her boss wondering if her heart would just stop altogether, surely there was enough adrenalin in her body by now that she could coast for a few hours.  
  
‘At least the girls are safe,’ Andrea thought as she began to assess the situation from her oddly comforting and alarming place against Miranda. Feeling the rise and fall of Miranda’s short breaths it was hard for Andrea to remember that this was the fashion queen of New York who kicked off winter for the world by staring down the sun. Miranda’s grip shifted at those thoughts and as Andrea straightened her body Miranda wrapped her arms around Andrea’s body her fingertips grazing the skin at the back of her neck. Inappropriate shivers zinging around her body, Andrea scolded herself for not remembering that Miranda was also the woman in the grey robe she had met in Paris and that jolts of desire now and at any other time were inappropriate. Andrea closed her eyes as Miranda settled back simply holding onto Andrea’s hand and she tried to not think the things that went with the sensations shooting around her body.  
  
Shifting until Miranda met her eyes Andrea knew she had to move the situation forward. “Miranda, are they gone?” Miranda blinked slowly at her but didn’t respond. Andrea sincerely hoped that she had not reverted to some heretofore unknown Girl Guide training and was blinking out some kind of Morse code answer. On the other hand, holding hands with Miranda in her ransacked townhouse was pretty out there so she wouldn’t be terribly surprised by it either.  
  
“Yes.” Miranda gathered her thoughts together to focus on forming words again. As Andrea shifted she held Andrea’s hands tighter. “Don’t leave me, Andy.” The desperation in the blue eyes seeking hers broke Andrea’s heart. Andrea shifted one of her hands so that she was holding both of Miranda’s in one. Then she brought her fingertips gently to Miranda’s cheek feeling the cold of her skin against the warmth of her fingers. Her brown eyes locked with Miranda’s blue ones and for the first time both women truly saw inside the other’s minds. A spark passed between them and was broken by Andrea’s cough. “We have to get out of here. Call the police. Or something. I’ll call the police.” Andrea began thinking with her fingers still lightly caressing Miranda’s cheek. When Miranda leaned into the touch Andrea realized that she had been caressing her lovingly. Slowly she pulled her hand away. “Is it safe to stay here, Miranda?”  
  
A slow nod answered her and Andrea slowly backed away from Miranda and rose to her feet. “Come on. Let’s get up.” She held out both of her hands to help Miranda. Not exactly needing the help, but desperately wanting it, Miranda bit her lip hesitantly. “Come on. We have to call the police. And you’re freezing, Miranda.” She reached out and Andrea helped to pull her to a standing position. Both woman lost time as Miranda’s body was pulled flush against Andrea’s. In order to not lose balance both women wrapped their arms around each other: Andrea over the shoulders and Miranda around Andrea’s waist.  
  
Each moaned slightly but caught themselves—guards instantly going up. They looked into each other’s eyes for painful seconds until Andrea pulled back. She let her arms slide down Miranda’s arms as she slipped away until her fingers caught Miranda’s before all contact was lost. “Come on. I’ll make the calls. You sit down.” Andrea pulled their hands, leading Miranda gently down the hall to her own kitchen.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Thankful that a friend of a friend of Nate’s was on duty Andrea hung up the phone. Detective Sarah Richards would be on her way shortly and Andrea hadn’t even had to make threats about discretion, drop Miranda’s name to expedite service, or go into unnecessary details as she was passed from officer to officer until she found the right one. Andrea was thankful that for once she had a connection that would be helpful to Miranda instead of always trading on her reputation to get tasks done. Sarah understood that discretion was of the essence and was actually in a position to take on the report herself. Relieved Andrea could turn her mind to a new task as she tried to tackle the situation she found herself in. “The police are on their way here. I’ll go get you something warmer to wear.” Without waiting for confirmation, Andrea turned and began to head out of the kitchen.  
  
“Andy.” The soft call of her informal name from Miranda had Andrea turning on a whisper.  
  
Andrea searched Miranda’s blue eyes as she stepped close. “Yes?” She questioned tentatively. She had always been Andrea since the first day, well except for when she was ‘Emily.’ Then again that may have been because it was always La Priestly calling her name and not the woman within. Tonight, the break-in had revealed usually concealed vulnerability and so it was Miranda and Andy, not Andrea and the dragon. At this stage she shouldn’t be surprised, but all the same her heart fluttered at the sudden intimacy the name change implied.  
  
That vulnerability spoke for Miranda, “Don’t leave.”  
  
Andrea tilted her head and began to object, “You’re freezing, Miranda.” Leaving off she just looked at the silver haired woman hoping she’d see reason.  
  
Rising from her stool Miranda kept her eyes on Andrea. “I’ll go with you.” Andrea hesitated until Miranda had reached her and then turned to lead the way out into the hall. Miranda was so close that their hands brushed and then Miranda firmly held Andrea’s in her own. Andrea slowed a half-step so that they could walk in-sync to the front of the townhouse. Andrea quickly closed the wide-open front door with her boot and made the turn to the stairs.  
  
The chaos of the upstairs was shocking. It was hard to fight the urge to pick up overturned furniture and clear broken glass. Andrea knew they should touch as little as possible until the police had come to investigate. Miranda’s hand covered her mouth as she looked in a slow circle around her room. Her grip on Andrea’s hand tightened as she turned. “Where are your comfies, Miranda?” Knowing the dragonlady would return at some point, Andrea was hesitant at first. However, she knew she had to help the sensitive woman holding her hand through this no matter what the dragon might say later. Getting out of this room the sooner the better with warm clothes needed to be Andrea’s priority either way.  
  
Receiving no answer Andrea looked at Miranda with concern. She figured that if she was standing in her ransacked bedroom that she would want a hug, so she pulled Miranda to her. Willingly Miranda rested her head on Andrea’s shoulder pressing their bodies close together again. Andrea’s breath caught in her throat and she had to hope that Miranda was too distraught to notice. Andrea was not sure what was happening in that moment, but a hug seemed the only thing to do. So, she squeezed her tightly knowing it was the right thing to do.  
  
“It will be all right, Miranda.” The comforting words fell from her lips as she rubbed her hands up and down the thin fabric of her blouse. She didn’t know where she was drawing this strength from, but she thanked the universe that she could be there for Miranda when she needed her. “The police will be here soon. We’ll get this figured out.” Miranda pulled away and locked uncertain eyes on Andrea, who shrugged and began mumbling. “I know. It won’t be all right, but that’s what you say, you know...” Miranda gave Andrea a sad smile that did not reach her eyes.  
  
“Second drawer,” Miranda said and she turned her body just enough to indicate the dresser behind them. A light bulb shone bright over Andrea’s head and she quickly moved out of the embrace to open the drawer and grab a sweater of some kind. Andrea pushed the top sweaters aside and then her breath caught in her throat as she saw a beat up purple hooded sweatshirt. In disbelief she shook out the sweatshirt and held it up. For a brief second, she wondered if this was where her ‘lost’ sweatshirt had ended up. Her eyes focused on Miranda when she heard her gasp of surprise.  
  
“Miranda?” Andy asked as she turned the Northwestern shirt around to face her.  
  
Quickly moving forward, Miranda said, “I think I’d like to change.” Bypassing Andrea and the sweatshirt, Miranda yanked open a series of drawers hastily pulling out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved cotton t-shirt. “I’ll just. Go in here.” Miranda said as she moved to the bathroom leaving a very stunned Andrea holding a sweatshirt from her alma mater in her hands. Looking at the closed door with a furrowed brow Andrea couldn’t help but wonder about that reaction to the sweatshirt. ‘Was this my long-lost hoodie?’ Letting the idea go in the sea of the night’s absurdity Andrea looked around the room realizing that she was standing in Miranda Priestly’s private bedroom. Andrea was faintly comforted by the condescending echo of Emily’s words in her head. She needed something normal to focus on!  
  
“The Book is assembled by ten, ten-thirty. And you must wait around for it until then. You will be delivering Miranda’s dry cleaning with the book. Now the car will take you straight to Miranda’s townhouse. You let yourself in. Andrea, you do not talk to anyone, do not look at anyone. This is of the utmost importance. You must be invisible. Do you understand? You open the door and you walk across the foyer. You hang the dry cleaning in the closet across from the staircase. And you leave the book on the table with the flowers.”  
  
“What the hell am I doing here?” Andrea whispered to the ransacked room.  
  
Andrea flinched as Miranda’s hand came out of nowhere and grabbed for the sweatshirt held against her chest. Her movement forced Miranda’s hand to brush against the top of her breast as she lifted the hoodie from Andrea’s grasp. Andrea’s eyes flew to Miranda’s and she thought she could see a smirk as Miranda smoothly pulled the sweatshirt over her head.  
  
Blue eyes casually flittered over Andrea’s frame and she shuddered under the imagined feel of a caress. Before she could stop them, Andrea’s hands ran through her hair and glanced around the room. Andrea was reluctant to let herself hope that Miranda really saw her. When Andrea dared to look up and meet her gaze once more she became overwhelmed at the sight. Her mouth opened to say something but no words came out. Usually under this kind of pressure words poured from her mouth with embarrassing fluidity, but tonight was no ordinary night. Andrea swallowed against her dry throat. Miranda’s eyes glimmered for a second and a smile almost bubbled to the surface.  
  
A knock on the first-floor door accompanied by a shout snapped both women to attention. “New York Police Department. Mrs. Priestly?” Andrea cringed at the name, the uncouth shouting, and that it would be repeated before they could get downstairs. Protectiveness rolled through her again. It was a feeling she could get used to and from Miranda’s expectantly outstretched hand it seemed that Miranda could get used to it as well.

 

 

z


	2. Apparently, I kidnapped you

**_Stolen. Part 2/4._**  
  
Touring the house with Detectives Richards and Shaw while Miranda recounted her harrowing evening to them made Andrea feel like a third-wheel, however she simply allowed her assistant instincts to sink in and followed Miranda making notes in her mind. The entry point determined and the likely path the robbers followed, they had settled into the cold kitchen. Detective Shaw had a friend that could patch up the broken window even at that late hour and so they finished their discussion while Andrea called him. Supposing that the site of the damage was in the kitchen and that the coffee was closer, Andrea kept her mouth shut about why they couldn’t do this in the sitting room. It had to be warmer than the kitchen—after all it didn’t have a broken window. Quietly leaning against the steel fridge worrying the button on her cuff she had to admit that the kitchen allowed her better viewing of Miranda in her jeans and purple Northwestern sweatshirt. The man came to fix the window and went. Andrea had tired of the detailed questions from the detectives and her mind had begun to wander.  
  
“Andrea?” The drawn-out syllables of her name snapped Andrea’s attention away from the thoughts of Miranda’s hands that had distracted her. Andrea could tell that she had missed what Miranda said and she nervously stood to attention coughing to cover her mind’s wandering as she hoped for a repeat. Amusement was unexpected on Miranda’s features, but it was certainly not unwelcome. “Will you show Detectives Richards and Shaw out?” Andrea nodded and led the officers to the door.  
  
The click of the lock released a hailstorm of thoughts in Andrea’s mind. She stood for a moment trying to chase the flurry of activity and have it make any kind of sense. Dreading the return of the Editor, Andrea’s first impulse was to follow the officers out the door. She had seen too much of Miranda’s weaknesses and her house in shambles. On the other hand, no matter how difficult the dragon could be Andrea knew that the woman within was beautiful and irresistible. She knew that she loved both— ‘WHAT?’ Her brain screeched to a halt after that. No rational thought was available to her as it shorted out on an overdose of awareness, confusion, and a small sliver of denial. Nate and Doug were the gay couple in her little world. Wasn’t she supposed to hold down the straight end of things? Three high school best friends could not ALL be gay, could they?  
  
Feeling like a moth drawn to the light Andrea’s feet took her on fluttering legs and with a flopping heart toward the kitchen and Miranda. Even her short-circuited brain could not escape the fact that she needed her things whether she chose to run away or linger. A little voice in the very back of her brain pointed out that she probably wouldn’t get much choice anyway. It was drowned out by the resounding chaos ringing out in her mind.  
  
Thirty steps were all that it took to return Andrea to the kitchen but as her foot left the 27th step, she put it back down, frozen. Her heart was beating at an unhealthy rate in her throat. Her hands were tingly and she felt worse than she did on the day of her most severe dressing down. Back then Andrea knew nothing but felt as though her flesh would melt off her bones. Three years later and chock full of knowledge, Andrea trembled at the thought of what this woman could do to her. Clenching her hands into fists Andrea reminded herself that she had stood up to Miranda before; timidly perhaps, long-suffering afterwards surely, but she had held her ground before. Just as Andrea was about to push forward, the sound of sobbing reached her ears.  
  
Andy quickly took the final three steps and pushed the door open. Hunched over the kitchen counter Miranda had her head on her arms and was sobbing. Andrea was not sure what she truly expected, but of the possibilities that had run through her head, this trumped them all. Before she could think it through Andrea crossed the kitchen and put her hand firmly on Miranda’s back. Miranda’s body tensed under her hand and Andrea recoiled as if burned. Sniffling Miranda sat upright, straightened her posture and turned to face Andrea on the stool.  
  
Bleeding pools of blue searched her face and settled on her eyes. Andrea couldn’t keep silent any longer, “Miranda?”  
  
Breathing deeply Miranda apologized, “I’m sorry, Andy. It’s been a long evening.”  
  
“No problem, Miranda. Understandable.” Andrea paused unsure of how far to go with her personal reassurances. “Should I call your publicist? A locksmith? A security firm? I wasn’t sure what direction you wanted to head with this. I didn’t want to take any liberties.”  
  
Miranda let out a long sigh. “Always business.”  
  
Andrea tilted her head looking uncertainly at Miranda’s disappointment. “I. Uh. Well depending on what this is, this won’t stay quiet for long. And I would be creeped out by the locks.” Andrea shrugged trying for offhanded, “The door is damaged.” She pointed to the kitchen door where the intruders had likely tried to break in, but only succeeded in cracking the wood.  
  
“Alright. Yes. Call, Leslie, and Shepherd Security. The locks and door will be fine for the night. I’ll call the twins’ father.” Miranda’s voice trailed off as she began mumbling. There was no hail-storm of fury as the world of the dragonlady snapped into action, instead Miranda slumped against the counter again and Andrea was frozen. After a few uncertain moments, Andrea again reached out her hand touching the purple sweatshirt Miranda was bundled up in. Andrea vaguely thought again of her own Northwestern sweatshirt and thought she should have replaced it. NOT DESIGNER she quickly reminded herself of why she hadn’t. Seeing Miranda Priestly mysteriously in possession of one reminded her that there was room in her life for simple pleasures like hoodies and fond memories of those times.  
  
“Andy?” Miranda’s hot breath on her face startled her. Andrea locked her eyes on Miranda’s gentle blues. “Thank you.” The world slowed down as Miranda reached out one hand and held one of Andrea’s hands in her own. Andrea’s throat closed trapping hope, desire, and words inside.  
  
Unsure of herself again, Andrea nodded slightly. Miranda’s eyes glimmered a moment. “Uh. Should we call from your office?” Andrea longed to leave the cold kitchen and the criminal’s point of entry. “I need to look up Shepherd Security.” Miranda stood bringing their bodies flush together as Andrea failed to back up a step. “Oh. Sorry.” Hastily she backed away from her boss. Miranda did not let go of her hand however and she led Andrea down the hall and back up the stairs.  
  
*** *** ***   
  
Entering a room that had been skipped on the tour with the detectives Andrea’s jaw dropped as she now understood why. She had wondered at the time why they didn’t go to what she thought of as ‘the office’ and looking around it became clear. Miranda had a private office that no one was allowed to enter. It had a keyed entry that Andrea found quite interesting. On the wall were sketches that Andrea recognized as fashion designs, but with a signature that she almost didn’t recognize. Being in a room that had not been ransacked and was obviously Miranda’s personal sanctuary made Andrea feel immediately safer. Miranda motioned her to the computer chair as she sat on a luxurious looking leather couch. Before settling in to work Andrea asked quietly, “Do you want security with the girls tonight, or just here?”  
  
“Here? Oh.” Miranda looked around. “Will you… Would you… Andy. I don’t want to be alone.” Her soulful pools of blue left no question in Andrea’s mind that Miranda needed her tonight.  
  
“Yes. Yes. I will stay.” Andrea tried to keep her mind from racing. “But the girls? Do you want a security detail at their father’s tonight or just here?”  
  
“Um. There’s no danger to the twins… Just have security outside their father’s residence in case. I’ll let their father know when I call him.”  
  
Andrea turned to the computer on the desk turning it on to look up the number for Shepherd Security. She settled herself in the comfy chair there and dialed Leslie’s number. Usually Emily dealt with Leslie, but she was not here and Miranda had not once mentioned her or anyone else for that matter. Miranda sat at the far end of the couch using the landline resting on the end table. Miranda’s conversation was muted and Andrea couldn’t tell how it was going.  
  
Andrea hung up from her second phone call glad that she had progress to report to Miranda. Absently thinking about the evening, Andrea hugged herself tight rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Miranda hung up and stood in order to sit again with her legs tucked up under her on the couch. Andrea stared at her in the purple Northwestern sweatshirt. “Andy? You’re shivering. Are those your clothes from work? Of course, they are. You came here to deliver the Book. What a night.” Andrea stared at Miranda unsure of what to say now. The Miranda she worked for didn’t always want answers.  
  
Rising Miranda crossed over to the desk and stuck her hand out to Andrea. “Come on.” Andrea looked from the offered hand up to Miranda’s eyes in question. “You need warm clothes yourself.”  
  
Andrea rose, taking Miranda’s hand once again and followed her back to Miranda’s bedroom. Andrea stood uncertainly in the bedroom as Miranda turned to the dresser hurriedly pulling out another pair of jeans and a soft t-shirt. Handing them to Andrea their hands brushed and Andrea looked up to Miranda. “Change in there.” Meekly Andrea headed into the master bath.  
  
“This is crazy. This is crazy. An entire night of crazy.” Andrea told her mirrored reflection. Then she quickly changed. It wouldn’t do to keep Miranda waiting. As she stepped back into the bedroom Andrea shivered. In just a t-shirt it was rather cold and the fatigue was setting in. Miranda was sitting on the edge of her bed hugging a sweatshirt to her looking at the mess around her. Andrea drew up short as she took in Miranda’s slightly unruly hair, sad smooth skin of her face, her plaintively searching blue eyes and her casual clothes. Andrea shivered again, only this time it was because of the vision on the bed before her.  
  
“Miranda?” Andrea asked hugging her goose-bumped skin to herself.  
  
Standing Miranda crossed over to Andrea. She stopped just short of bumping into Andrea who backed up a half-step. Andrea internally chastised herself. Why should she be surprised at this point? Boundaries of personal space hadn’t meant anything since she arrived this evening, so why should they matter now? “This is for you, dear.” Miranda held out the sweatshirt to Andrea. This one was luxurious and Andrea spotted the label as it shifted in her hands, but it was not well-worn like the Northwestern sweatshirt Miranda wore. Andrea took it, for the first time deliberately letting her fingers linger on Miranda’s. She might as well enjoy some contact while it seemed to be accepted on this strange evening. She likely wouldn’t get another chance at such natural touching.   
  
Andrea shoved the sweatshirt over her head and jammed her arms up through it pulling the chest down over the t-shirt that she realized had risen up. “Thank you. Miranda. Uh. Thanks, a lot.” Andrea furtively looked up to meet Miranda’s eyes and she was confused by the myriad expressions there. Tonight, Miranda had been like an open book and Andrea had been on guard for that book to be slammed cruelly on her fingers at any moment. Yet, even with the crisis finished, Miranda had not slipped into her dragon persona again. Her eyes showed weariness, longing, and want and Andrea did not know what to do with that realization as her stomach flipped, flopped and fluttered.  
  
“I don’t want to stay here tonight, Andy.” Miranda whispered.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
A week ago Andrea had returned to find Nate making her apartment a home. The mirage had comforted her for a few days and made her long for the future when she would have someone waiting for her at home, or someone that she would come home for. Doug’s return home had at least warranted her another dinner to show his thanks, but the days after had felt darker and more lonesome as she readjusted to his absence again. She wasn’t jealous of Doug and Nate, but she was jealous of what they had together.  
  
Walking up the steps with Miranda behind her she realized that even more than having someone already home and cooking for her with the lights on and music playing, it was about having someone to share it with. Until tonight she would never have thought of sharing her life with Miranda.   
  
Andrea quickly turned on the lights banishing the darkness and the confusion her mind was in. “Do you want something to drink?” Andrea turned into the kitchen thankful that Nate had ground some of that fantastic coffee from his restaurant. Frustrated Andrea’s fingers slipped a couple of times on the filter.   
  
Miranda leaned against the counter next to Andrea their body heat merging together in the cold room. “Was that your boyfriend, the cook?”  
  
The coffee canister slipped from her hand rattling against the counter until she slammed her hand on top of it to still the motion. She looked at Miranda not sure if she had heard, right. Miranda’s eyes were on her quietly waiting. Andrea swallowed, “No, um, not really.” Miranda’s brow furrowed, but she said nothing as she watched Andrea master the coffee making procedure. Once it was set Andrea looked up at her and she just raised her eyebrow in question. “He…” Andrea started and stopped unsure of what to say. “I…” She winced knowing that she was making a mess of things. “We dated in high school. I’m not really his type.” As Miranda continued to stare at her Andrea huffed out a frustrated puff of air. Then she went over to a picture of Nate and Doug together at Lily’s wedding. “That’s his type.” She said pointing her finger at Doug’s head.  
  
“Remarkable.” Miranda said as she took the picture. “You have an imaginary boyfriend, Andrea. I wouldn’t have pegged you for insane.” Andrea smiled at the dig. It meant that Miranda was feeling much more in control and safe. It made the brunette feel good that she could provide that. On the other hand, she hoped it wouldn’t mean the hand holding would stop. ‘That was nice.’ Andrea sighed and forced herself to gather two coffee mugs, cream and sugar and spoons.  
  
“I guess it’s complicated, which is silly, but Nate’s family has some major issues and it has just been easier this way.” Andrea shrugged. In some ways it was easier for all of them, but in others it was difficult. She had realized over the last couple of years that she had been hiding behind her glass relationship in order to focus on her career, but that was just an excuse so that she didn’t have to tread out into the open water of dating. She was content and focused on her work. Knowing the coffee was almost ready Andrea faced the counter and watched the last drops percolate down into the pitcher. It had only been in the last six months that she had begun to look around at her life and those around her and found herself lacking. She was reluctant to change, and a part of her knew that any relationship she had would rock the boat for Nate and Doug.  
  
The warm coffee and brief conversation helped them relax enough for the fatigue to catch up to them. It was nearing three in the morning and the day was steadily marching toward them. Andrea yawned looking at Miranda in the sweatshirt that could have been hers and was filled with a strange sense of joy. After Nate’s visit she had felt like she was getting the short end of the stick in life when compared to her boys. However, looking at Miranda and remembering how it felt to hold her sure didn’t feel like the short end of the stick now.  
  
“The bed is in here.” Andrea turned the light on in the bedroom. Miranda followed her, coffee cup in hand. Andrea paused as she tried to puzzle out whether or not she had enough extra bedding to sleep on the couch. Miranda set the coffee cup down, kicked off her shoes and slipped under the covers fully clothed. Andrea started to tell her about getting the blankets when she heard Miranda lightly snoring. Looking out into the living room Andrea shrugged. She padded across the room, turned off the light and slipped under the covers too. Her smile stayed with her even as she entered dreamland.  
  
*** *** ***   
  
Andrea awoke with a start. Disoriented she ran her hands over her face to rub away the vividness of her dream. She stretched her body out in the bed, her toes reaching until they hooked on the end of the mattress and her arms stretched up until they pushed against her headboard. Her body was still tingly from all the racing thoughts her dream brought forth. Apparently, she had long been admiring Miranda from a safe distance. The realization of this fact had only come last night, but there was no mistaking it as she flashed back over her time at Runway. Struggling towards awareness she could not believe the direction her dream had taken. Apparently, her mind once given new parameters could create a new dreamscape that defied her conscious imagination. Accepting it was just a dream fueled by extreme fatigue; Andrea tried to relax into her blankets once more to enjoy a few more minutes of sleep before the alarm.  
  
The return to sleep proved elusive as Andrea struggled to get comfortable. It did not help that even while shut her eyes were burning. She groaned knowing it was going to be an incredibly long day. Sighing in finality she realized that dreamland was gone and she was back in the dullness of reality. Once more she futilely tried to claim her blankets as her own. At this point Andrea realized that she was fully clothed in jeans and a sweatshirt: clothes that she did not own but had dreamed of. She flipped the blankets back and sat up in amazement looking at her clothes.  
  
An angry grumble startled Andrea from her own contemplations and she almost squealed. Miranda Priestly, her boss, the dragonlady, La Priestly, was in her bed and grumbling grouchily at Andrea’s jostling movements and the sudden coldness without the blankets. “Lay down.” Andrea looked at the older woman truly shocked. This was not the quiet voice of Miranda Priestly before she whispered for a head to be chopped off. Nor was this the biting derision of a scolding. It was a gentle command uttered from the fringe of wakefulness.  
  
Andrea tried to make her brain work faster than her lack of sleep and apparent grogginess would allow her. Images from the previous night returned to her in quick succession as she sorted out reality from dream. Delivering the book, she had found Miranda in the townhouse after a break in. She had stayed there while the police came, the locksmith changed the locks, the publicist had been warned, and security had been called. Throughout the evening they had held hands and been close, but not as close as her dream had thrown in. Andrea took a deep breath after that thought. She turned and looked at the woman in her bed smiling at the glimpse of purple Northwestern sweatshirt she saw. At last she remembered that Miranda hadn’t wanted to be alone and hadn’t wanted to stay in the townhouse and her mind arrived to the present time.  
  
“Andy?” The quiet question from Miranda made her turn again to look at the woman.  
  
Wide-awake now and confused as hell Andrea flopped back down on the queen-sized bed in her messy apartment. She almost wished Nate were there to verify reality for her. There it was again—no mistaking it. Miranda had called her Andy last night as well. Andrea remembered that part clearly. Miranda turned her body into Andrea’s and rested her arm across her stomach. Andrea’s heart fluttered in her chest and then fell silent. If not for the goose-bumps and her jumbled thoughts she would have thought she had died. The contented sigh Miranda blew onto her neck sent shivers through her. Miranda tightened the arm across her stomach and threw a leg over her. Trapped by happiness Andrea pulled the blanket back over them.   
  
As Miranda’s body warmed her, Andrea’s brain calmed, her heart returned to its proper place, and her eyes drooped. Unconsciously Andrea’s hand began to stroke up and down the purple clad arm. Whatever this was, Andrea vowed to remember and enjoy it.  
  
With that final settling thought Andrea was about to drift into sleep when her alarm clock buzzed harshly near her head. She had to shift—disturbing a snoozing Miranda once again. Andrea turned it off. Then her phone began to ring. “Damn.” She swore quietly. One ring, then two and three rings—she cringed knowing that Emily was cursing her. Andrea counted to ten, then fifteen, on twenty it started ringing again. Without thinking, Andrea kissed the top of Miranda’s hair and eased herself out from under her.  
  
“What?” Andrea answered breathlessly as she shut herself in the bathroom in an effort not to wake Miranda Priestly.  
  
Emily’s voice hissed into her ear. “Where are you? Turn on the news.” Andrea could hear the tone of panic and smiled just a little because of her secret knowledge. “Miranda has disappeared. It’s all over the news. Today is going to be awful. Brace yourself for it and get in here ASAP!”  
  
Gasping Andrea’s eyes bugged out as she asked, “What? What do you mean, Miranda’s disappeared?”  
  
The eye roll was practically audible as Emily elaborated. “The media is having a field day. Apparently, the townhouse was broken into last night and ransacked while Miranda was there. She called the police and everything and then just disappeared.”  
  
Wrinkling her brow Andrea sucked in a breath of air. Her eyes stung, her head was beginning to throb and this information was not helping her mindset. “What do you mean, exactly?”  
  
Emily lowered her voice as if she was imparting a great secret. “Miranda called for security and then wasn’t there when they showed up.” She paused and Andrea could imagine her hiding in the Runway kitchenette and peeking out. Normally it would have made her laugh. “There was no new evidence of foul play, but the security detail called the police again. The media is having a feeding frenzy over this. They’re calling it a high-profile kidnapping what with the break-in and all.”  
  
Smacking her palm to her forehead and then rubbing her fingertips across her forehead Andrea let out her frustration. “Oh my god.”  
  
Taking no notice Emily barreled on. “Can you imagine kidnapping Miranda? God, these people. And if it’s all hype? Let me tell you—heads are gonna roll.” Emily took a deep breath at the thought and then snapped. “I don’t have all day to talk to you. Get the coffees and get here.”  
  
Emily clicked off the line and Andrea sat in shock on the edge of the tub. “Shit.”  
  
A soft knock on the door signaled the arrival of La Priestly. “Shit.”  
  
The knob turning sent a blast of cold down Andrea’s spine. ‘Shit shit shit. I just woke up Miranda Priestly and…’ Her brain started to spiral out the list of things that the editor of Runway might expect upon awakening.  
  
Interrupting before she could panic Miranda peered at her from around the edge of the door. “Andy?” Called to attention Andrea looked up at the gentle tone and nickname. “Who was that?”  
  
Looking at the phone glad she had the answer Andrea looked up amused. “Emily. She’s freaking out. Apparently, I kidnapped you.” Miranda’s jaw dropped just enough to part her lips and Andrea almost smiled at the thought of kidnapping Miranda and having her at her mercy. “The media are calling your disappearance last night a high-profile kidnapping. It’s all over the news.” Andrea looked up afraid the tenderness of Miranda’s blue eyes would have frosted over into the steely blue gaze of the dragon.  
  
“Oh. I see.” Miranda stepped fully into the bathroom now and Andrea stood up in the small space.   
  
Her lips pursed in thought Miranda mused. “I guess we should have waited for the security detail to arrive before we left.” Eyes focused on Miranda’s lips, Andrea was amused to remember Nigel explaining her facial expressions. “Did I bring my phone last night, Andy?”  
  
Not taking her eyes off of Miranda’s lips Andrea answered with a whimper. “Yes.” Their bodies were so close her brain was short-circuiting.  
  
Watching Andrea looking at her thrilled Miranda and her voice was husky as she asked, “Are you okay? Andy?”  
  
Miranda’s eyes followed Andrea’s tongue as she wet her lips. Her voice a whisper Andrea answered, “I’m not breathing.”  
  
Miranda smiled. Eyes searching Andrea’s, she closed the gap between them completely. “I’m not breathing, either. Andy.” Her eyes looked with undisguised want at Andrea for the first time—unwavering in their desire for closeness, in their passion for Andrea’s brown ones, and in the unspoken promise to be Miranda for her and only her. Miranda brought her hand up to Andrea’s face lightly stroking her cheek. Andrea closed her eyes and leaned into her touch. Miranda hooked her fingers lightly just at the back of Andrea’s head and lightly pulled her face closer. As she leaned forward Andrea licked her lips in anticipation.  
  
Andy’s phone rang again and both women sprang backward while the phone clattered to the floor.  
  
“Always business.” Miranda sighed. “Don’t tell her anything. Just say that you’re on your way.” Miranda turned to leave the bathroom looking just once more at Andrea as she went.

 

 

z


	3. Chapter 3

**_Stolen. Part 3/4._**  
  
Nigel bustled between the assistant’s desks flapping his arms so that they would follow him. He grabbed the remote control for the new television system and crossed his arms over his chest. Emily glared at Andrea, she didn’t know what the girl had done, but she was sure there was something that she could be mad at her for. She hated that she just couldn’t let it go. She knew that she would never be like her mentor if she couldn’t hide her displeasure any better than she did or control her impulsive behavior toward the girl when she felt like lashing out. It wasn’t that Miranda didn’t show her displeasure or take hostile actions against those that displeased her—it was just a matter of how she went about it. Emily knew she wouldn’t truly be ready to move up until she was able to master the mask. It was one of those unwritten/unspoken trials that really good assistants had to go through. Bad assistants never made it past a few months and mediocre assistants ground out their year and moved on. Good ones though stayed for the long haul and had a lot to learn before really moving on with Miranda’s blessing. It really riled Emily that Andrea had somehow made it past year one and still stayed on.  
  
“Apparently folks it was all a misunderstanding.” The newscaster broke Emily’s thoughts about her fellow assistant and she turned her gaze to the screen. Miranda looked as good as she always did as she took the podium in a hotel somewhere. “Miranda Priestly has just issued a statement from here at the 60 Thompson. I think we have the clip now.” They cut to Miranda as she slipped off her glasses and spoke into the microphone.  
  
Andrea tried not to laugh as Emily and Nigel both leaned closer to the screen as if that would make a difference. Surely the sound had been edited to make sure that Miranda’s voice would be audible even if she was soft spoken at the press conference. Surely that was why the newscaster had delayed and introduced the clip so that it would be run through the appropriate software.  
  
“Last night my home was broken into and after I thought everything was taken care of I took refuge here. In my haste I did not remember the security team coming to the house. My only thought was the safety of my children and then getting away from the scene. It is heartbreaking to feel unsafe in your own home. I did not intend to worry anyone.” Miranda paused and then let the smallest of smirks tug at the corners of her mouth, “I’m sure my staff will be disappointed, but the tales of my demise are just that tales. That’s all.”  
  
Questions were shouted but Miranda did not respond. She simply cut through the crowd. The newscaster cut back in describing the circumstances that had led to the media circus. His voice didn’t hide his disappointment knowing that he wouldn’t be allowed to break into regular programming for updates on the case. Nigel continued to watch as they showed Miranda’s townhouse. He wondered what changes would be made to the house in light of the break in.  
  
Emily turned on Andrea, “You knew.” She hissed as she turned and stepped toward Andrea as menacingly as she could. “You messengered that outfit this morning!” Emily punctuated her outburst with a lightly stamped Jimmy Choo. Nigel turned slowly to regard Miranda’s assistants. He hadn’t been expecting a cat fight as the result of Miranda’s disappearance, but he couldn’t deny that it had been simmering. Emily stepped even closer to Andrea and to her credit Andrea did not retreat. Nigel raised his brow in anticipation. She had learned so much in her time at Runway. He wondered if Andrea would be ready to move on before Emily and knew that it would depress the redhead immensely. “You knew.”  
  
The shock and outrage were short-circuiting Emily’s brain, which was amusing to Andrea, but aside from the gleam in her brown eyes, that Nigel surely saw, she was able to hide it. “Yes. I did.” Andrea had learned to cut her answers to the minimum, which infuriated Emily.  
  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Emily demanded leaning forward again. Nigel wondered if he was really going to have to step between them and didn’t like the prospect. He wondered if a shaken San Pellegrino over their heads would be enough. He didn’t want to wrinkle the Armani.  
  
Andrea tilted her head to the side much like their boss and in a cool, collected voice answered her, “One: I was told to say nothing. Two: you didn’t stop to listen to me for five seconds.” You could see Emily revving up for more like a wind-up dolly, but Nigel was proud that Andrea seemed to be handling herself quite well. He wondered if she had been listening to self-help books or taking karate or something. Before Emily could formulate her next outburst, Andrea’s phone vibrated and she glanced down at the text. “She’ll be here in ten. I suggest you call Serena back for that run-through after all.” With that Andrea turned and stalked out of the office grabbing her small bag from her errand bag from her desk. Over the years she had created a small bag for running errands in the neighborhood of Elias-Clark. Some change, a copy of her driver’s license, a note pad, a special heat sleeve for Miranda’s coffee that looked suspiciously like a reworked beer cozy and other items that Andrea could grab in a hurry when she wasn’t going very far. It was enough to streamline her job, but not so much if she got mugged and not too much to lug around if she had to come back bearing parcels and bags from designers’ showrooms.   
  
Emily huffed and Nigel raised an eyebrow at her. After a pause Nigel sighed and said, “Well, she’s on the way. I’ll spread the word. You make the calls.” He patted Emily on the shoulder as he went to the outer office doors. As he slipped away his voice was cut off, “Gird your…” Emily didn’t have to hear it to know how it ended and the reaction it would have throughout the floor as the word spread.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Emily had been in a snit the rest of the morning and early afternoon. Andrea had been thrilled when Miranda called her in after her lunch meeting, although she hadn’t been too confident in her assignment. Going back to the townhouse before Miranda did was alarming, but when Miranda had leaned forward and quietly called her Andy she knew there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her. Besides Andrea was the only one who had been in the rest of the house as far as she knew, at least from Runway. Walking out still uncertain about her task but determined to do her best she realized that if Emily had been sent she would have been fuming.  
  
When she returned Miranda was out of the office and so she had left the new keys from the locksmith on her desk with his business card. She had taken the liberty of making copies of the keys for the twins, a new assistant key and an extra just to keep on hand. Her parents had always had an extra copy of their house key growing up and Andrea still followed most of their examples.  
  
She returned to her desk working on Miranda’s schedule. Emily had made a right mess of it in the morning canceling things that didn’t need to be cancelled and the ripple effect of re-booking them was taking some fine-tuning. Luckily Andrea had a better rapport with most of the assistants in town and it was not that hard to smooth feathers, just tediously time consuming. She was thankful when Emily was called away so she didn’t have to ignore her blue eyes trying to set fire to her.  
  
“Hold the book and take it home.” Andrea was confused by the text message from Miranda but simply kept tapping her keyboard and answering the phone. Miranda had not returned at the end of the day, but Emily had come back for some last-minute sniping. Andrea interrupted her telling her to cover the phones while she went to the bathroom. The shocked gasp was worth all the suffering she’d have to put up with the next day. It was a necessary evil she justified to herself as she went; she was waiting for the book by herself after all. When the book came she had received no other directions so she slipped it into her bag and headed for the subway.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
The letters on the screen were due in two days, but Andrea looked at them with distaste. They were not what she wanted to be looking at or thinking of. She kept looking over to the chair where her bag was still cradling the Book. It made her nervous having it in her home. She didn’t want anything to happen to it, or to forget it or something. Although the look on Emily’s face saying she had to go back home to get the Book would be sweet. Andrea smiled at that thought and then forced herself to re-read her computer screen. She had been sitting there for hours and had only added a paragraph. She couldn’t imagine why Miranda would want her to take the Book home. As she stared at the Book once again she wondered if she stared at it long enough if Miranda would magically jump out of it like a cake or something. Which Andrea realized was preposterous, ‘Miranda jumping out of a cake, indeed.’ She shook her head trying to clear that image but couldn’t stop her inner voice, ‘But kind of hot.’ It tittered from the back.   
  
Eyes wide Andrea’s body tensed as a knock on her door snapped her out of her fantasy. As much as she wanted to believe it was her imagination, Andrea knew that it was Miranda at her door. When the knock started again after about five seconds and then repeated after another five seconds Andrea finally roused into action. Looking through the peephole Andrea’s wild guess was confirmed. She rushed to open the door thankful that she hadn’t changed out of her work clothes. “Hello?” She said in a questioning breathless tone.  
  
Without greeting her, Miranda swept into the apartment and stood just inside the door. Andrea closed the door and looked at her. “The twins are with their father.” Miranda stated without preamble. At a loss for words, ideas, or comprehension Andrea just stood there in silence waiting for more information. Frustrated Miranda shrugged out of her jacket and raised her brow at Andrea.  
  
Slowly, like the first molecules of sunlight lightening the sky, realization dawned in Andrea’s brain. “You.” She paused certain that logic had given her the answer, but still doubting that it was Miranda’s intent. “You want to stay here?” Andrea stepped forward, close to Miranda. She let their fingers brush as she took her coat from her hands and lowered her voice. “Instead of alone?”  
  
A sharp nod was her only answer.  
  
Logistics kicking in from the morning’s situation Andrea began a frantic set of questions as she went to hang up Miranda’s jacket in her closet. “Do you have clothes? Did Roy bring you?” She stammered like a car slowly heading towards a cliff. As she locked eyes with Miranda she tried to contain herself. “I just. It was stressful to be your kidnapper this morning and all.” Her name had been mentioned in the news reports as a possible suspect and then after the press conference her name had still come up as the loyal assistant who stayed with her while the police made their report. Her mother had called as had Nate and Doug, and even Lily.   
  
Miranda looked down and Andrea thought she caught a bit of uncertainty in her posture. “I use another driver on occasion.” Motioning to the bag she had dropped at the door she added, “I brought a bag.” Looking up at Andrea she added quietly, “I don’t want to be there.”  
  
Remembering how creepy it was for her to be in Miranda’s house after the burglary Andrea understood that sentiment completely. She wasn’t sure why that meant Miranda didn’t go to a hotel. She had said how much she liked the 60 Thompson that morning in fact, when they were deciding how to handle the situation. Then it dawned on Andrea and she stepped close to Miranda, “I was there last night.” She said gently as she tentatively reached out for Miranda’s hand. The tears did not fall, but they shimmered in her eyes and Andrea broke a little at the sight. She pulled Miranda to her in a hug her hands immediately in a hug, her hands circling against her back. “Oh, it’s okay.” She squeezed Miranda and closed her eyes as she felt Miranda’s cheek smooth against her own. “You can stay here.” She pulled back just enough to look into Miranda’s eyes and smiled sheepishly. “I just can’t imagine the Queen of Fashion wanting to be here in this dump of an apartment, can you?”  
  
Immediately assuming the imperious face of the Editor, Miranda looked down her nose as Andrea. “No, the Fashion Queen would not, but I am human too, you know.”   
  
Andrea stepped back knowing her next comment might get her in trouble and she wanted a head start. “Oh, is that what was wrong with you? I thought you were getting sick.”  
  
She hadn’t gotten far enough away because Miranda easily grabbed her hand and smacked the back of it playfully scolding. “You always push your luck, don’t you?” She held Andrea’s hand between hers letting her know that she wasn’t in trouble after all.  
  
“Most of the time,” Andrea responded with a grin.   
  
Unexpectedly Miranda squeezed her hand and explained even more of herself. “I don’t want to be alone.”  
  
Her heart fluttered at that quiet admission and she stepped close enough to hold Miranda’s hands in hers now. “I get that.” She made sure Miranda met her eyes to know she was telling the truth. Then she offered, “You know I would stay with you. Uh, if you wanted.”  
  
Miranda shook her head sadly and said quietly. “No.”  
  
The tone let Andrea know it wasn’t a refusal or dismissal. The light bulb went on over her head again, “Oh. The press would be on that worse than the ‘kidnapping.’”  
  
Miranda gave a wistful nod that Andrea wasn’t sure how to interpret. Part of her thought that Miranda was sad about the press always butting into her personal life and part of her wondered if maybe she was sad that she couldn’t be who she wanted to with them hanging around all the time. That crazy, kamikaze part of Andrea’s brain even wondered for a second if maybe Miranda would have liked to have her over to the townhouse. Those thoughts weren’t given time to form completely because Miranda had moved on. “Do you have the Book?”  
  
*** *** ***   
  
Andrea knew it wasn’t real, but in the dream, she was so forlorn to come home and find her tiny apartment ransacked. She called Nate to let him know, but he just said he was sorry and it was rotten timing. He had moved out completely and Andrea felt so alone as she stood in her apartment cold and waiting for the police to come. Suddenly Miranda was there in that purple Northwestern hoodie and jeans with her arms open and her eyes gentle. Andrea whimpered and leaned her face into the gentle caressing touch of Miranda’s hand. Her eyes fluttered closed in the dream, but in reality, they fluttered open.  
  
It took a few moments but Andrea slowly sat up realizing that Miranda was sitting with her on the couch caressing her face. Only she was now in a nightgown that Andrea knew was too thin for her cold apartment. Looking around she was glad the apartment was okay after all. Once Miranda was sure she was awake she quietly said, “Come on.” Silently she rose and went into the bedroom. Andrea knew she heard the sound of covers being pulled back. Too groggy to fight it or question it Andrea stood. Standing at the dresser she realized she shouldn’t have just stripped down because she couldn’t climb into the bed like that. Sighing she pulled out a t-shirt and pajama shorts that had seen better days. Unable to take back her striptease maneuver Andrea quickly stepped into the shorts and pulled the t-shirt over her body. With a final shred of modesty, she removed her bra from under the shirt, glad she had realized her mistake before she had gotten her underwear completely stripped off. She wasn’t sure she would survive giving Miranda that kind of show.   
  
Crawling into bed Andrea realized that it might not have mattered at all, because Miranda was already quietly snoring. Andrea cuddled up to her knowing that they had ended up that way in their sleep the night before. She felt like it was a kind of permission already granted given the circumstances.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Letting the door click closed behind her, Andrea staggered forward under the weight of the dry cleaning. The hair on the back of her neck rose as she went to the closet and quickly hung up her burden. It had been a week, but she was still unnerved entering the house. She had to clench and unclench her fists in an effort to reign in her impulses. It was all she could do to walk back out the door each night. Her mind and body were possessed by the need to check on Miranda. At work there was a shift between them, but the gentle caress of her nickname or gentle hand-hold could never be a part of their work environment. Riding in the car they were almost alone and Andrea let her eyes wander over Miranda from time to time. The ringing of a phone or arrival at a destination, or the intervention of a task never permitted her to ask the question hanging on the tip of her tongue: ‘do you miss it, too, Miranda?’ Even then Andrea would sigh and look out the window knowing she could never ask because she could never define what ‘it’ was between them that she missed. Or she could only define her feelings and their perceived closeness and that would require too much risk on her part.  
  
Andrea checked that she had set the Book in the right place. Sometimes in her haste she would put it down on the first table coming in so she could focus on the dry cleaning. She was always afraid that she would forget to move it to its proper place. Hearing her name, she was glad that this step had become part of her routine for without it she would have already been out the door. She grabbed the book and then followed the voice to the study. “Yes, Miranda.”  
  
Seeing the full smile on Miranda’s face, Andrea had to hug the book to her. “Andy, do you have time?” Miranda motioned to the end of the couch close to her chair.  
  
Exhaling a slow breath Andrea sat down trying to keep her hopes from soaring. She knew she had missed the hand-holding, but the friendly tone and honesty in Miranda’s voice washed over her showing her that she had missed that personal interaction even more. That desire had just been disguised better because she did speak with Miranda during the work day, just not like this. She held out the book and Miranda propped it on the side table.  
  
“I’d like to thank you for fixing things back to the way they were. Especially for your work in the girls’ rooms,” Miranda fixed a serious look on Andrea seeking out her eyes. “That those people were in their rooms has really scared them, but your surprise additions to their rooms have been a boon to their distraction.” Miranda leaned forward looking into Andrea’s eyes searchingly. Andrea had never been so disappointed that she had relaxed into a couch in her life. She fought the urge to sit forward and move into Miranda’s space. She couldn’t quite stop her hands from sliding up her thighs. The movement caught Miranda’s eyes. She smiled and clasped Andrea’s hand between hers. The electricity that sparked between them caught both of their breaths. “Thank you, Andy.” Miranda breathed out and then with a squeeze she sat back into her own chair.   
  
Disappointment and joy warred for dominance as Andrea shrugged. “I figured that if I had been robbed, that I’d want a treat of some kind.”  
  
Miranda bit her lip and raised her eyebrows amused. One could think that she was thinking of her girls and their mercurial ways or looking from one woman to the other one could think that Miranda was imaging a treat that she’d like for herself. “A treat.” Miranda closed her eyes as she breathed deeply.  
  
Andrea found herself sitting on the edge of the couch without consciously scooting forward. To cover she draped her hand on the arm of the couch as if she had just decided that was a more comfortable position. Not sure what to say next Andrea decided to keep it safe, “The last of the insurance papers went in today.”  
  
Miranda leaned back in her chair sighing, “All that mess and the only big thing they took was that painting.” Amused Miranda half-laughed, “Clearly they didn’t know what they were doing or who they were robbing.”  
  
Andrea laughed feeling more at ease. “Anyone that knew you would have headed straight for the closet, I think.”  
  
The nod from Miranda filled Andrea with a pleasant heat. “I guess I should take comfort that it wasn’t anyone that knew me.” Looking up at the far wall she added wryly, “Or knew anything about art.”  
  
Following Miranda’s eyes Andrea thought about what Miranda had said. Her tone when she said ‘that painting’ was akin to her flesh-eating glare and looking at the painting on the wall Andrea at last figured out that the painting that was stolen held no value sentimental or otherwise. “Oh.” She giggled as the dots connected for her.  
  
The clock in the hall chimed the hour and Miranda stood. “I have to check on the girls. They haven’t been sleeping well.”  
  
Andrea stood too and their bodies were close enough to share heat. “No problem. I should get home. My boss demands the best so I need a full eight hours.” It felt good to joke with Miranda because her hand was warm on Andrea’s back as she walked with her across the house. Fighting the urge for a kiss goodnight Andrea instead turned and caught Miranda’s hand in her own. “Good night, Miranda.” The moment was so desire filled that Andrea couldn’t hide the longing in her eyes.  
  
When Miranda squeezed her hand and whispered, “Night, Andy,” well, Andrea was glad that she couldn’t hide the longing. As she walked away on a little fluffy cloud Andrea was almost certain that Miranda was as enchanted as she was.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
“Boyfriend troubles, Andy?” Looking up through her thick lashes Andrea tried her best to smile at Roy. He meant well, he just wasn’t up to date on what troubled her. He reminded her of her uncle always asking about the men in her life. “Don’t let anyone keep you down, okay?”  
  
Sighing in resignation Andrea let her hand trail over the shiny cover of the Book. “Nothing like that.” Her smile was tremulous, but he gave her a nod and slipped into the traffic.  
  
For the first time in two months Andrea had to deal with her feelings. Since the break in every time the girls were with their father Miranda texted her to hold the Book and then arrived at her apartment to spend the night. Andrea had grown used to the semi-announced visits and they had settled into a comfortable routine. Despite their late hours it was the best sleep Andrea had gotten in years. She refused to allow herself to contemplate such a fragile agreement. It was one thing to pin her hopes on such a delicate thread and quite another to know she was doing it. The twins were gone again and for the first time since the burglary Miranda had not tapped into their routine. Andrea tapped her fingers against the binding of the Book enjoying the plastic tick-tick sound as she tried to hold back the tears that longed for release. The perpetrators had been caught the previous week and now Andrea knew what that meant for her time with Miranda. For the first time in years she cursed knowing Miranda and the girls’ schedule.  
  
The dry cleaning was light and Andrea hurried to place the Book in the correct place, hang the dry-cleaning post haste and make a quick getaway. Three steps from the door she heard her name in that quiet personal tone that was reserved just for her, “Andy?” On tottering heels, she turned to see Miranda glorious in her bathrobe motioning to her from the foot of the stairs.  
  
The ride to the townhouse had not been long, but it was long enough for Andrea to realize she couldn’t live on scraps of moonlight that she found at Miranda’s feet. A job at Rolling Stone had caught her eye earlier in the day, but she had dismissed the thought knowing that Miranda would steer her toward the future when the time was right. Arriving at the townhouse with her heart laying flat against her stomach Andrea had realized that she would have to make the break. Starshine, while magical, could not sustain her for any length of time.  
  
Andrea swallowed hard as she watched Miranda turn to go up the stairs expecting her to follow. ‘Last chance to enjoy the magic.’ She sniffed and then followed Miranda up to her bedroom.  
  
Climbing into the bed Miranda grabbed her laptop and patted the bed as an invitation to Andrea. “I want to stretch my legs and sit next to you.” She explained and reached to fluff up the pillows for Andrea. They had discussed one night on the couch how it was nice to sit side by side, but that ottomans really just didn’t provide the legs proper satisfaction like sitting up in bed.  
  
Andrea smiled a wistful smile as she recalled Miranda admitting to reading murder mystery novels with a ravenous hunger while propped against the pillows. She stepped out of her heels and wondered about her clothes.  
  
“You’re welcome to the hoodie and sweats.” Miranda motioned to the top of her dresser. Andrea followed her line of sight until she landed on the ubiquitous Northwestern sweatshirt. Biting her lip Andrea stepped forward and slipped into the bathroom to change. She wondered when Miranda had acquired sweat bottoms but supposed that she hadn’t actually gone through all of the drawers the night of the break in.  
  
After Andrea had scrambled into bed Miranda slid the laptop onto her lap. “The room needs a facelift.” Andrea tried to blame the heat of the laptop on her legs for the heat that coiled low in her abdomen, but even she didn’t believe it. Miranda had turned almost slipping her arm around Andrea as she leaned close and looked at the screen with her. At first Andrea had a hard time making out the actual words she was so thrown off by Miranda’s breath against her cheek. Feeling decidedly cozy Andrea clicked and nodded as Miranda talked only offering a minimum of input. Apparently, Miranda was redesigning her bedroom into some kind of romantic love nest and Andrea fought jealousy and hurt as she tried to enjoy what may very well be her last evening like this with Miranda.  
  
One too many yawns and Miranda set the laptop aside before turning out the lights. Like the previous nights they had spent together at Andrea’s apartment Miranda slept within minutes. This time Andrea resisted the urge to curl against the warm form so near her and yet so far away. Turned away Andrea let the first tears fall against the smooth Egyptian cotton of the pillowcase. In the morning she awoke with Miranda wrapped around her. Not ready to fight the impossible Andrea slipped out from her embrace and into her previous day’s clothes. Getting clothes at work usually meant borrowing something for an event, but Andrea supposed borrowing something for the day wasn’t that different.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
Each day of the next week Andrea grew more and more certain of the conclusions drawn about needing to break away from Miranda. Replacing the duty of a cover girlfriend with irregular and incomplete intimacy with Miranda was no way for her to truly live. Nate had finally taken the step to solidify things with Doug and Andrea knew she needed to step out of the shadows and begin to live her life; which included the need to risk her heart in uncharted waters. Nate and Doug both assured her with the same smiles they always had that they would be there for her during any storms she would have to weather. Clicking send Andrea had to fight back tears knowing that as long as Miranda let her go she was on her way. As much as she wanted Miranda to give her a job recommendation, she desperately hoped that Miranda would reach out taking her hand and keep her close. The combination left her feeling queasy.  
  
“Miranda?” Standing in the door of the inner office did nothing to calm the butterflies in Andrea’s stomach.  
  
Without looking up, the editor hummed an affirmation and gestured toward the seat opposite her desk.  
  
Gingerly Andrea sat on the edge of her seat not at all comfortable. “I’d like to ask for a recommendation.” It wasn’t what she had rehearsed for the last half hour in the ladies’ room, then again it was straight to the point and Miranda hated small talk. Andrea felt some relief that for better or worse it was out there.  
  
Miranda’s hand stilled over the page she had been reading and then flipped it. Other than that pause, she did not respond. “Where?” She asked at length still not looking at Andrea.  
  
“R-Rolling Stone.” Andrea breathed in to add that she had been doing online articles and getting noticed. Once or twice she had even made it to the Rolling Stone website.  
  
“When?” Miranda closed the magazine she had been going through and let her hands rest on the cover before she looked up at her assistant.  
  
“The application deadline was today, but I will work a full two-week’s notice or longer if you’d prefer.” Andrea felt the heat at the back of her neck at the intensity of Miranda’s gaze.  
  
Tilting her head, Miranda considered her words a moment. “You could go anywhere. Is Rolling Stone your first choice?”  
  
Wishing that there was more than one level to the conversation Andrea hesitated. Miranda had become her first choice in the weeks since her first realization, but the question on this level was meant to be about work. She couldn’t work at Runway and be that close to Miranda, although a part of her wanted desperately to cling to any chance of contact between them. Breathing in a fresh air of decision she knew that her first choice had to be Rolling Stone if only to make the break complete. “Yes. I want to work at Rolling Stone.” Andrea hoped with the small torch bearing part of her brain that if Miranda was searching for any kind of hidden meaning in her words that her phrasing would keep the spark alive.  
  
The half-smile that Miranda gave almost comforted Andrea, but after half of her own smile had formed she saw Miranda’s eyes were the dull dark blue that comes before a storm. She was not going to be blacklisted, but a storm was coming. A fundamental shift had occurred between them and Andrea was lost as to what it would mean or where it came from. The ground the two of them had been walking on was far from stable, but now she felt that it was also covered in fog.  
  
Picking up the phone and tapping in numbers Miranda assured her quietly, “Then you shall have Rolling Stone, Andrea.” Her attention shifted as the phone was answered. Andrea sat amazed as Miranda uttered a sentence to an assistant and then was immediately speaking to Jann Wenner. Watching magic happen at a gala as Miranda mingled and greeted the throngs was a different experience than being seated across from the fashion maven, and literally seeing her transform from dull and stormy eyes to the twinkle of excitement for a political game. She knew it was all smoke and mirrors, but it was still amazing to see up close and personal how miraculous Miranda Priestly was in all of her glory. Runway truly was her kingdom and she its queen.  
  
Miranda let her hand linger on the phone when she set it down and then buoyed by her façade with Jann she let that magic flow into her conversation with Andrea. She supposed it would need to happen someday—had always known that, and in typical Priestly fashion she had decided to cut to the quick. Andrea wanted to leave her and so she should leave her now—immediately. Letting the seduction of the previous power play still tinge her voice she addressed the nervous girl in front of her, “Jason will expect you in two weeks. 8 am sharp. Do not disappoint me, Andrea.” She let the words hang there knowing it would take a moment for then to settle into the brain. Then seeing the light behind those brown eyes, Miranda added, “You may take your things today. Enjoy some rest.”  
  
The pause was like the horrible moment after a particularly loud thunderclap when the air crackled with static and the lightning was expected close and terrible. Andrea flinched back as if struck by Miranda’s words and began to protest. “I-I-I. Miranda, I should work my notice, um…” She trailed off as Miranda continued to gaze at her.  
  
The phone rang in the outer office and Emily stepped to the door. “I have Meisel.”  
  
Miranda nodded at the red head and looked at Andrea once more. “Tell Emily.” Her hand was on the phone. “Go now.” Her gaze went to the phone as she answered it and then turned to her computer waking up the screen and clicking on a folder to bring up pictures.  
  
Andrea stood up on wobbly legs and retreated to the outer office.

 

 

z


	4. Chapter 4

**_Stolen. Part 4/4._**  
  
“Nothing?” Doug couldn’t believe it. Somehow the end of Nate and Andrea’s fake relationship had meant that they had both practically moved in with him. After hearing Andrea’s story, he understood why, but couldn’t believe that was where the story ended.  
  
“I’ve tried to call, but Emily.” Andrea flailed her hands in the air and Nate sighed as he flipped the grilled cheese sandwich. He was sorry for Andrea, but he had hoped to enjoy the first couple of weeks with Doug in a more intimate fashion. Doug started to protest and Andrea over rode him sadly. “No, her cell goes to voicemail.”  
  
He wasn’t sure she’d eat it, but it was worth a try. Besides the Jarlsberg was already melted. “Here.” He set down the sandwich and when she didn’t flinch from it like in her early Runway days he turned to make one for Doug. He was glad that his boyfriend didn’t mind ‘girl talk’ because he just couldn’t do it for a sustained amount of time.  
  
“I even went by a few times in the evening, you know. But she didn’t answer.” Nate pressed on the sandwich with the spatula wishing he could put pressure on Miranda the same way. He heard Doug make a sympathetic sound and thought he’d have a good time rewarding his good boy later. “I left a single red rose on her doorstep.” Smiling Nate flipped the sandwich. He could hear the words were uttered behind a mouthful of cheese. He knew that she was still ready to fight which was a good thing. Ever since Jenna in sophomore English class, Nate had vowed that no one was ever going to make Andrea lose her fight ever again. He smiled wondering why he hadn’t figured out that his over protectiveness was more like a brother, than a boyfriend. Things would have been so different if he had realized his attraction to Doug before he felt the need to shelter Andrea. Turning he set the sandwich in front of his lover.  
  
“I told you to stop drinking the Kool-Aid over there.” Nate smiled as he ruffled Andrea’s hair and turned back to the stove. He had one more sandwich to make. “Told you it would do strange things to you.”  
  
Doug glared at his lover, but Andrea laughed quietly. “Yes, yes. You did tell me. You said I was changing.”  
  
Nate set the sandwich into the pan and turned to look at her. He felt bad about that conversation, especially given all the changes they had gone through when they moved to New York. Away from their parents, in New York instead of Chicago or Dayton, and working for food—those things change a person no matter what’s going on. Nate had been critical of Andy because her changes were the most obvious and visual, but later he had realized he was just as guilty of change as she was. Doug had told him so in no uncertain terms. It had been rough that first year but between needing his cover girlfriend and Doug’s insistence on Andrea they had made it through. “You know I’m sorry about that.” Nate gave her his best puppy dog look and she smiled at him before taking another bite of her sandwich. If she hadn’t pointed behind him, then his sandwich would have met certain ruin. He turned around cursing, but just in time to flip it over.  
  
“I know. I know.” Andrea muttered restoring peace as Nate turned to look at her again. “I’m just so frustrated.” Andrea let out a big sigh and picked up her wine glass.  
  
Nate shivered as he heard a thoughtful hum come from his lover. Usually Nate heard that sound when they were in the bedroom and he couldn’t help his Pavlovian response. He turned back to tend his grilled cheese. Before he joined them, he grabbed the bottle of wine.  
  
“I think you need to corner her.” Nate covered his eyes at that response while Andrea leaned forward in her chair eyes begging for more. “Yeah, I mean. What you’ve done so far should work on a normal person, but this is Miranda Priestly.” Nate took a long drink of his wine hoping it would take some calming effect before he started in on his sandwich. “You won’t be able to let this go until you know for sure, right?” Doug leaned forward, elbows on the table and waited for Andrea’s nod. “The new you has to have started, right?” Another nod from Andrea and his plan was formed. “Call the office demanding to speak to Miranda. Make sure it’s the new girl. If she’s unavailable then schedule an appointment or tell her that you can’t get in touch with Patrick and don’t want to disappoint her…” He waved his arm at Andrea, “Well, just make it so that the girl has to put you through or cough up information that you can get in behind the scenes at an event.”  
  
Nate set down his sandwich, “Ambush the dragon, seriously?” Skeptically he looked back and forth between them. “Isn’t that like catching a tiger by its tail?” He shrugged at them, “Um, dangerous?”  
  
Andrea and Doug caught each other’s eye and nodded. Nate refilled their glasses.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
The car’s temperature decreased minute by minute. The storm outside was still only threatening, but that didn’t mean the air in the car would stay warm all on its own. Andrea was hardly breathing and her heart had lost its rhythm. It was no wonder that the temperature was dropping. By now her breath should have been fogging up the windows, but the cold had seeped into her from outside leaving nothing for hope to catch light upon.  
  
According to the new Emily they were late. Deciphering Miranda had been something that Andrea thought she had down pat, but ever since the Rolling Stone conversation that resulted in both a fantastic new job, and her being de facto fired she thought that her deciphering mojo had disappeared. A sudden vacation immediately after her departure from Runway could mean something or nothing. Being late from a glorious holiday could mean a distraction that Andrea would rather not contemplate or perhaps a lack of desire to return to a life that was suddenly lacking. She was too cold to even grasp that thread of hope and let it dangle on a string.  
  
At length a familiar town car pulled up in the drive and two red heads bounced out and toward the trunk. Roy met them and lifted out their cases for them as Miranda slowly emerged from the car. The girls charged up the steps as rain began to fall. Andrea opened the car door across the street and looked both ways. Roy and the girls disappeared as Miranda turned stretching and her eyes caught Andrea’s brown ones.   
  
Pushing back against every impulse in her, Andrea finished crossing the street. She knew from one too many cats that it was death to hesitate. Get all the way across, go all the way back across if you must, but never ever hesitate in the middle.  
  
Miranda shut the car door, but said nothing as her eyes tracked Andrea. The limited light gave Andrea’s eyes a glow that called out to her. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides.  
  
“I thought…” Andrea began and then stopped. She stood looking at Miranda, saying goodbye as she memorized how beautiful she looked with the small drops of rain like drops of dew on her silver hair and the calm of a good trip smooth on her face. “It doesn’t matter.” Andrea brought herself up to her full height and held herself together. Her heart was wrapped in the duct tape protection of the promise that she could fall apart on Doug’s shoulder later. “There were things I had hoped to say.” She shook her head stopping that speech at the first sentence. Grimacing she slipped a card into a Starbucks bag filled with purple cotton and then held it out for Miranda. “These are yours.” Miranda looked at the heartache clear on Andrea’s face, but could not break through the resolve she had built brick by brick in the last two weeks. Andrea’s posture shifted to pleading and her eyes begged Miranda to put her out of her misery. It was enough to snap Miranda to the present and she reached for the bag. Their fingers touched just as the first clap of thunder sounded. “Thanks.” Andrea whispered as she pulled away. Quickly looking back and forth she ran across the street and hopped into the car.  
  
Two blocks away she pulled over and cried in the rain.  
  
Nate picked up on the second ring.  
  
Doug came to get her within fifteen minutes.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
The irony of following Nate when he moved out to his boyfriend’s house was not lost on Andrea. She just couldn’t do much about the timing. Strawberries from Dean and Deluca’s and beer were well received and Andrea shuddered to think of where all those strawberries went over the weekend. Though Nate’s neck told her plenty enough about the happy couple. Working at Rolling Stone and dressing to impress ran diametrically opposed to her desire to stay in sweats curled up on Doug’s couch and so with great reluctance Andrea grudgingly embraced that she must accept the loneliness of her apartment again. After two weeks at Rolling Stone, she had more or less stumbled into a routine that could not last indefinitely, but certainly exhausted her enough to fall straight into sleep once she arrived home.  
  
Andrea dropped her gym bag on the floor and toed off her shoes. She took off the sweatshirt she had put on for the subway ride home and then went into the kitchen. Pouring a large glass of water, she leaned against the counter drinking it swallow after swallow in a greedy rush to hydrate herself. The loud knock at her door caused a flood down her face and she cursed as she wiped her hand over her chin. “Damn.” Looking around for the kitchen towel she cursed again when a second burst of knocks startled her all over again. “Coming.” She grumbled as she toweled her face and threw it back on the counter.  
  
Checking the peephole Andrea pinched her arm hard. “Ow!” She winced and rubbed the bruised flesh of her arm. One handed she undid the security chain, and deadbolts before opening the door. Standing face to face with Miranda, she found that the vast lexicon of her brain was devoid of words—even her high school French failing her utterly.  
  
Dressed to the nines Andrea knew that Miranda had worked late. She looked like she had walked off the cover of Runway. Andrea blinked at her. Gesturing toward the apartment Miranda asked, “May I?”  
  
Stepping back, but still searching for words Andy watched as Miranda closed the door behind her.  
  
“The night of the break-in I lost something of vast importance. Two weeks ago, I lost the only thing that made it all right.” Andrea fought the urge to look away as her heart started to beat once again in the empty cavity of her chest. She wanted to guard herself from hope, but Miranda continued on and she was compelled to look at her. “I’m sure it started before the break-in, but after there was no denying that my heart belonged to you. I dared to hope that in time—” Miranda’s voice cracked as Andrea had only heard it a handful of times and she instinctively stepped forward. Miranda’s hand shot up and out stopping her. “You wanted to leave and I understood, but I couldn’t bear it, Andy.” Miranda set her bag down at her feet and clasped her hands together in front of her. “I thought that if you could just go, it would be for the best.” Miranda looked away and took in a shaky breath. Then she fixed her eyes on Andrea in a look crafted by hurt and anger. “Your calls, cards, the rose,” Miranda pointed at her, “They broke me, Andy.” The tears welled but did not fall. “If it’s not mutual,” She paused to let it sink in and then in ice she finished, “If it’s not mutual, never seek me out again.” The silence was heavy between them.   
  
Stepping forward Andrea pulled Miranda’s hand up to her chest holding it there with both of her hands. “In the last several months my only happiness has been the nights spent with you. Working. Whatever. I didn’t even mind you coming here and scaring the crap out of me like tonight. I didn’t mind the late nights because it was worth it to be near you, to get to know you, to wake up so close our bodies shared the same heat.” As a happy sob broke through Miranda’s façade the first of Andrea’s tears slipped down her cheeks highlighting her smile between the tear streaks. Andrea pulled Miranda to her and kissed her cheek as she felt Miranda’s arms encircle her body as well.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
The heat of the shower combined with her fatigue and Andrea vaguely wondered if she had been following the white rabbit down the hole, or whether it was really Miranda at the peephole. After two weeks in the desert it seemed like a case of too good to be true. The cool air on her backside was a sure signal of delirium but she wasn’t sure if it was a harbinger of craziness or happiness.  
  
Miranda’s warm body pressed against hers took her breath away and she inadvertently inhaled water. Coughing Andrea turned to face her dream. Miranda’s hands smoothed circles on her upper arms, their nipples brushed against each other sending out some kind of physical alarm system that Andrea was not prepared for, and Miranda’s eyes looked at her with a hunger that Andrea had only ever heard about in books before. A cry that was half surprise and half terror escaped her mouth and she clung to Miranda like shelter in a storm. “Oh.” Uncertain of the response Miranda simply enfolded Andrea into her arms in a strong hold. “I’ve never.” Andrea whispered to Miranda’s cheek. “Nate.” Andrea blinked and continued. “We.” Miranda rested her hand on Andrea’s shoulder giving her an anchor point from which to move on. “I’ve never had sex.” The meek whisper barely heard over the shower water stunned Miranda.  
  
It took many moments for the realization to sink in and then Miranda second-guessed the wisdom of joining her lover to be in the shower. It was hardly on the top ten list of places to have your first sexual encounter. Then again thinking of many people’s stereotypes she figured when the moment comes upon you and you are filled with love it was not a bad place to begin.  
  
Tightening her hold on Andrea for a moment and then releasing slightly Miranda assured her, “Then we’ll discover together.” She pulled away enough to find Andrea’s eyes and was greeted with a warm smile and a slow nod. “Is this okay, Andy? To start here where we are?” If necessary Miranda was prepared to step out of the shower and start over from cuddling fully clothed in the bed again. She hoped it wouldn’t be necessary but knew it would be worth it.  
  
The movement had gently slid their breasts against each other and Andrea knew there was no going back for her from here. She also supposed that the advantage was that a lot of awkwardness had been skipped that would normally accompany arriving at this point. “I like this.” She said as her eyes fluttered from Miranda’s eyes to her lips and back and back and back until she was only looking at her lips as she leaned into Miranda. Their bodies slid together until her eyes went to blackness and Miranda’s lips were moving against hers. The kisses were gentle—lips sliding against lips, opening only to kiss again, making sweet sucking sounds as they learned each other.   
  
Soon Andrea’s hunger for more built and she found herself sucking Miranda’s lip into hers as she pulled away. They looked at each other for many seconds until Andrea’s wet hands came to Miranda’s cheeks and inertia took over. Her lips were firm against Miranda’s opening and then her tongue danced in between lips licking and tasting Miranda’s lips against hers. Their bodies shifted against each other Miranda unconsciously stepping forward into Andrea. Letting her lover set the pace lifted the weight of control from Miranda’s shoulders and she found a rekindled innocence in exploration. Andrea added teeth to the texture of their kiss and Miranda could hold back no longer. Her tongue danced out to join Andrea’s in short little strokes teasing the hunger that Andrea was devouring her mouth with. The aggression of the kiss escalated as Andrea pulled Miranda to her suddenly pulling them under the full spray of the water.  
  
Andrea pulled back stunned and searched Miranda’s face for a reaction as the water soaked her hair and ran her make-up. Andrea shivered under the look of passion that Miranda returned to her. “Don’t stop.” She hissed as she stepped into Andrea pressing her against the cold wall of the shower. Their kiss ebbed and flowed back and forth between them as kisses became nips and bites. Andrea tried to stay aware of them in her mind, but she was struggling to separate the sensations. Their breasts rubbed against each other more and more and then Andrea realized that her hips were rocking against the leg between hers. She moaned as realization washed over her and she knew that she could not go slowly anymore.  
  
“I need more.” Andrea put her hands-on Miranda’s hips and stilled herself against her lover.  
  
It took a few long moments but Miranda recovered first. Her smile was feral. “But I’m not clean, are you?” She reached for the shampoo and squirted a dollop into her hand. Andrea bit her lip either against disappointment or in anticipation and shook her head no. Miranda reached up and massaged the soap into her brown tresses. As the suds dropped down her back and breasts and they slid together Andrea found another of the attractions of the shower scene. She smiled and reached for the shampoo, playing follow the leader.  
  
Stepping out of the shower Miranda thought it might have been a horrible tease to clean Andrea’s body so thoroughly knowing she would wait for satisfaction until they were lying down, but she also thought that it turned out to be a great way of getting acquainted in the first-time sense of things. Much better than high school bleachers, the back seats of cars, or any of the sundry places that haunted the American First Time Mythology. No part of their bodies had been left hidden or untouched and yet it had not been rushed. The touch truly was an end in itself capturing the true spirit of exploration. Toweling her lover dry tested her patience beyond its limits however and so she pulled them to the bed they had first shared together months prior.  
  
The familiarity of lying together allowed Andrea to pull Miranda close without the fears of her earlier anxiety. The gentleness that they had shared in the shower removed any barriers left between them and built new bridges where before there had only been a guessed at connection. They had said little, but the body language of smiles, nudges, caresses, and giggles had wrapped their connection tight around them.  
  
Andrea pulled back breathless, “I need more.” Miranda kissed down her neck and engulfed a peaked nipple with her mouth while her hand gently pushed Andrea back against the mattress. She let the fingers of that hand pluck and twist and tease Andrea’s other nipple. It was difficult to round up the words she needed in the swirl of her brain but Andrea was nothing it she wasn’t valiant and determined. “I want you to lead, Miranda.” Her body arched as Miranda’s fingers pinched deliciously harder than before at the same time her mouth sucked away from her breast with an audible pop. Lying flat again Andrea looked down catching eyes with her lover. “Tuh—” She swallowed hard trying to control her vocal chords. “Take me.” She panted out.  
  
Crawling up Andrea’s body Miranda lay half to the side of her lover and half on top. The press of their bodies together was delicious. Her kiss was heated asking permission and being reaffirmed as her hand once again claimed its place against her breast. Nudging her knee against Andrea she felt her lover accept her on another level. Miranda’s body flooded with desire and she slid her leg between them. As the kiss’s intensity turned to fire Miranda rolled more fully onto Andrea and let her hand slide down to touch that tangle of hair at the junction of their legs. Miranda moaned as Andrea bit her lip hard at the first swipe of her finger through her wetness. Gently Miranda pressed Andrea’s legs further open as she rolled all the way on top of her. Up on an elbow Miranda broke the kiss to slip her other leg between her lover’s and they shared a soul-searching moment of eye sex that sizzled along their skin.   
  
“Your leg,” Miranda lost the words as she slid her fingers against Andrea’s opening, again distracted by the pure liquid desire she felt there. “Wrap.” Miranda panted as her inner muscles clenched. “Around me.” Miranda moaned as she circled Andrea’s clit. As the brunette’s hips bucked up to meet her, both legs wrapped tightly around her as commanded by Miranda. Her fingers slowly drenched by Andrea’s desire, Miranda’s body shuddered with her own pleasure. Not wanting to hurt, but not wanting to drag things out either, she pressed forward kissing and biting on Andrea’s shoulder as she adjusted her legs closer and closer to Andrea’s body. The pain of Andrea’s nails in Miranda’s skin and heels at her back mirrored the flicker of pain inside Andrea’s body as she rushed to join them as one in a tight embrace.  
  
They paused together on a precipice made new in their love as they became one. The moment spun out towards infinity and blinding light and then collapsed upon itself retracting into the details of fingers, liquid desire, nails scoring the skin, and two bodies moving in tandem rushing toward a release that would rock their worlds. In minutes that felt like hours, they broke and rebuilt each other until they were each a throbbing, panting mess of flesh that began and ended in each other. Limp, they kissed and uttered nonsense until Miranda shivered and Andrea pulled the blanket over them. Andrea wondered how to say goodnight, but as she kissed her lover’s forehead she realized she didn’t have to as the older woman was already delightfully snoring and holding onto her tightly.  
  
*** *** ***  
  
A Saturday wake up on a Wednesday created a near panic in Andrea Sachs the following morning. Amused, Miranda watched her young lover work up quite the panic of self-talk and rushing around the small apartment. Then Miranda rose, retrieved her bag without a word and shoved the purple Northwestern sweatshirt over Andrea’s messed up brunette tresses. Shocked, Andrea spluttered, but Miranda silenced her with a kiss. She held out the sweat bottoms also retrieved from her bag and handed them to Andrea. “You are on time for your interview. Jann has been after me positively forever.” Another kiss was needed to stop a fresh round of splutters. When all signs of resistance had melted into want, Miranda pulled away sauntering naked into the kitchen.  
  
“Coffee?” She asked over her shoulder.  
  
Shocked, puzzled, horny as hell—now that she knew the proper word for the feelings Andrea followed her into the kitchen. She smoothed down her sweatshirt and slipped into the sweat bottoms, but watching the lithe movements of her lover prepare the coffee she hoped she wouldn’t have to wear them long.  
  
“You’re giving me an exclusive for Rolling Stone?” Andrea asked amused as she kissed her lover’s neck forcing her to pause in the mission of making coffee. She let her hands rest on Miranda’s hips and stilled waiting for an answer.  
  
“Hmm.” Miranda hummed and turned in her lover’s arms. “Exclusive.” She acted as if she was tasting the word on her tongue. “I’d like that yes.”  
  
Flashing her best smile Andrea kissed her lover soundly on the lips. “Exclusive it is then.” She agreed before sealing their agreement with another kiss. “Do I need to call, or does Jann already know about this interview?”  
  
Sneaking cold hands up under the purple cotton, Miranda growled. “You’ll call him.” Amused that she made Andrea squirm, Miranda ran her fingers against her ribs again. “I’m glad I finally get to see you in your sweatshirt.” She kissed her neck and purred. “I’m going to love taking it off of you too.”  
  
Andrea pushed her away. “What?”  
  
Miranda shyly admitted, “I came to give that back to you. If I was never to see you again I needed to finally give it back to you.” Andrea shook her head in disbelief, ‘That’s where it went. It was stolen by Miranda, not lost.’ “In bringing it back to you, I received the best gift ever, I think.”  
  
Amazement turning from disbelief into amusement Andrea smiled and teased, “Oh, and what was that?”  
  
Cupping Andrea’s face in her fingertips and searching her eyes she whispered, “Your heart.”  
  
“Oh.” Andrea sighed as she leaned into Miranda kissing her. Pulling away she asked quietly, “My heart for yours then, a trade?”  
  
Something that sounded like ‘um hum’ growled out of Miranda’s throat as she walked Andrea straight back to the bedroom. Crashing together on the bed Miranda wasted no time divesting her of the sweats and pressing her chilled body all along Andrea’s flushed one. “A trade,” Miranda initiated the kiss, but Andrea rolled them taking charge and ready to claim what was hers.  
  
**The End.**

 

  
z


End file.
